Take the Monkey and Run (28 page)

I patted my pockets.

“I do—here.” Emma dug into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a tube of lip balm.

“But it's your favorite, and they don't make it anymore.”

“Maybe that will give it extra kick.” She placed the lip balm on the altar. “Oshun, please keep our friend safe.”

“Emma,” Hugh called from the kitchen. “Grace, we found something.”

My sister and I hurried into the kitchen.

“A skillet?” I said, looking at the object on the table in front of Ronnie.

“Not just a skillet,” Hugh said. “This is Belinda's favorite. She was telling me yesterday how long it's taken her to get it seasoned. And how much she loves to cook with it.”

“Think it will work?” I asked Ronnie.

“Let's find out,” she said.

Closing her eyes, she placed her hands on either side of the cast-iron pan.

We watched and waited.

“I'm getting something,” Ronnie said.

Kai had taken out his phone and was holding it toward her. Obviously recording her words.

“It's dark. There's humming, like an engine. I think it's the van.”

I clasped my sister's hand. She squeezed it as we waited for more.

“The road is smooth. And it's . . . that way.”

Ronnie pointed.

The entire group looked in the direction she'd indicated, as if there'd be something to see, but we were just staring at the kitchen wall.

“It's foggy.” Frowning, she shook her head. “I'm losing it.”

We continued to wait in silence for a few more seconds, until Ronnie opened her eyes.

“I couldn't hang on to it.”

“That's okay,” Emma said. “You did great. At least we have a direction.”

“Yeah,” she said. “But half the city's that way.”

“You said foggy—did you mean actual fog?” Kai asked. “Or was your link becoming murky?”

“I don't know. I'm sorry. That wasn't much help. Let me try again.”

Rolling her shoulders, Ronnie placed her hands on the skillet, blew out a breath, and closed her eyes.

After a few minutes she gave up.

“Nothing. It's totally gone.”

“I know this is going to sound crazy.” I paused to look around the room. “Okay, more crazy than all of this has been so far. But if Barry figured out a way to block us on a small scale, maybe he did it on a large scale, too.”

“Like a giant psychic-blocking force field?” Emma sounded skeptical.

“Why not?” Hugh said. “He managed to create a psychic monkey.”

“Good point.”

“It would explain why you can't get more than a vague location,” Kai said, “if it's made to block off a specific place, like a building. You wouldn't be able to access anything inside.”

“So we're screwed.” Ronnie huffed out a frustrated breath and slumped back against the cabinets.

A wave of inspiration hit me so hard I nearly dropped my glass of water. “I've got it.”

“What?”

“For whatever reason, Ronnie can't get a bead on her grandmother or Belinda. Maybe because of some antipsychic force field, or maybe it's something else. Whatever. But what about Cornelius?”

“What about him?” Hugh asked.

“Oh my God—you're right,” Emma said.

“What?” Ronnie asked.

“Cornelius knows where Barry has been doing his experiments, because he
was
an experiment.”

“It's kind of poetic,” Hugh mused. We all looked confused, so he clarified, “You know, Barry flipped the psychic switch on Cornelius and that's what let him escape.”

I turned to Ronnie. “Think you can find a psychic monkey?”

“A monkey?”

Kai was nodding thoughtfully. “It could work.”

“Not with monkeys,” Ronnie said. She looked shocked at the suggestion.

“Why not? The concept is the same, right?” I asked.

“But I don't have anything of his to guide me,” Ronnie protested.

And just like that, my big idea deflated like an old inner tube.

“Use Grace,” Emma said.

I perked up. “Will that work?”

“I don't know,” Ronnie said. “I've never used a person as a link before.”

“It's worth a shot, isn't it?”

“Say this works, and we find Cornelius,” Hugh said. “How are we going to catch a psychic monkey who can literally predict what we're planning?”

“We won't have to catch him,” I said. “We just have to get him to lead us to wherever Anya and Barry are holding Belinda and Hattie.”

“It's our only option,” Kai said.

“Then I guess we should try it.” Ronnie looked at me. “What do I need to do? Think about him or something?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Grace, I think you should try to focus on Cornelius and block out everything else,” Kai suggested. “You've had telepathic connections with too many animals. It might get confusing.”

“Okay, give me a second.” I closed my eyes and pushed
everything out of my head, filling it with white noise and static. Then, I pictured a dot in the center of my field of inner vision. I focused on the dot and brought it closer. The closer the dot got, the more features it developed. I could see a long, prehensile tail. And a sweet face with quick, curious eyes.

“Okay,” I said.

I felt Ronnie's hands clasp mine.

“Here goes,” she said, and we went.

Lights flashed. Car horns blared. Blurred images lurched in and out of focus. Trees. A rooftop. A barking yellow dog.

In a whirlwind the images flew by, then came to an abrupt halt.

“Holy crap. That was like being in monkey warp-drive,” I said.

“Did you see him?” Emma asked.

“I saw a lot of stuff. Ronnie?”

“Yeah, way too much. I got a direction, though.” She pointed.

“That's the opposite way from Belinda.”

“Hey, wouldn't you want to put distance between yourself and the mad scientist's lab you'd escaped from?” I said.

“Yes, but it's still half the city,” Kai said.

“No, it's not.” I looked at my sister. “Em, where's the monkey map?”

“Um . . .” She looked at the kitchen table.

“Here,” Hugh said. He'd obviously folded it up and out of the way when Ronnie had sat down to try to find Belinda with the skillet.

Spreading the map out on the table, we tried to decide which hotspot on the map was in line with the direction Ronnie had indicated.

“This one.” Emma pointed. “In Uptown.”

“Let's go,” I said.

We loaded everyone, except Voodoo, into Bluebell. Once we got close to the monkey zone, Ronnie and I tried again to locate Cornelius. Holding her hand tightly in mine, I tried
to maintain focus as images flooded my head in dizzying swirls of color and light. When Ronnie broke the connection, I was so light-headed that I almost toppled over.

“You okay?” Emma asked from where she sat next to Ronnie.

“Yeah, it's just a wild ride.”

“We're much closer,” Ronnie said. “Take a right.”

Kai, who was driving, did as she asked.

“Somewhere along here,” she said.

I nodded, recognizing some of the scenery from her vision. “There's the broken tree limb,” I said.

“And the birdhouse.” Ronnie pointed. “What were all those boxes? Beehives?”

“Nope,” I said. “They're winter boxes. Some people with outside cats or who take care of ferals use them so the cats don't freeze.”

“That's nice.”

“It is,” I agreed.

“So,” my sister asked, “you know where to go?”

“Yep. I got it,” I said.

I hopped out of Bluebell, glad I'd decided to wear my heavy red coat on such a bitterly cold night, and walked to the second house on the street.

The mailbox was decorated with dozens of paw prints. I'd seen it from Bluebell, which was how I knew we were in the right place.

Stopping at the gate, I focused on locating Cornelius. I found him quickly, but not where I'd expected. I thought he would be curled up in one of the insulated boxes in the backyard, but the clever little capuchin was snuggled up on a cat tree,
inside
.

This ought to be interesting.

The sign on the front door read:
CAUTION, CRAZY CAT LADY CROSSING
.

Well, at least I could talk to her. Some people might not know this, but not only am I fluent in whale; I also speak crazy cat lady.

I knocked on the door.

A woman in her forties answered a minute later.

“Hey there. I'm so sorry to bother you. I was hoping to ask you about your winter boxes.”

“You're not with the homeowners' association, are you?”

“No, ma'am.”

“Good. Those idiots with their Fleur-De-Lis la-di-da think they have the right to tell me how to take care of my pets. You know what I say?”

I didn't.

“They can stick it, that's what. What did you want to know?”

I took a card out of my pocket and handed it to her. “My name is Grace Wilde and I'm an animal behaviorist. I'm working on redesigning the boxes we currently use at the Humane Society.”

“Well, come on in. I'm Pat.” She squinted at the card, then handed it back to me. “You might as well keep it. I can't see a thing without my glasses. I lost them a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh?” I said as we walked into her living room.

“Yep, blind as a bat.”

“You don't say.” I slid my gaze over to the cat tree and the animal perched there.

Hello, Cornelius. Remember me?

Grapes?

He remembered me.

“Yesterday, I almost took a sip out of a bottle of dish soap,” Pat said. “My new glasses should be here in the next few days if you want to come back. I can show you how I built the winter boxes.”

“Actually, Pat, I found what I was looking for.”

•••

Cornelius had been happy to come with me—he was getting tired of eating cat food.

Pat had been stunned to learn she had been harboring a fugitive and was grateful I could take the little monkey off her hands.

With Cornelius perched on my shoulder, I climbed back into Bluebell. Hugh turned around in his seat to face me. “I've said this before, but it bears repeating. You're good.”

“I am. And I promised him a bunch of grapes. We'll be good for a while.”

Cornelius crawled around my neck to sit on the shoulder closest to Ronnie. She smiled and cooed at him.

“Did you ask him where we're going?” Kai asked.

“Not yet. I wanted to get him in the car first. That way, if he freaks out we won't lose him.”

Ronnie eased away from the small monkey. “Is there a chance he might freak out?”

“He's been experimented on by a mad scientist,” I said. “What do you think?”

She blanched, eyes going wide.

“I'll try to keep him calm, though. Give me a second.”

I needed to come up with the least traumatic way possible to learn what I needed to know.

I thought about the little troop of capuchin monkeys I'd seen at the zoo and wondered if, when Cornelius had escaped from wherever he'd lived before this, he'd left any friends behind.

With the concept of family and friendship firmly in my mind I asked,
Where are your friends, Cornelius?

The answer wasn't helpful. Cages. Darkness. Pitiful cries of pain. And the pressing weight of sadness.

Okay, I can help them.

Help?

Yes, I want to help.
I patted the monkey on the flank to reassure him.
Can you tell me where they are?

I should've known what was coming but I'm telepathic—I can't see into the future like Cornelius.

The world flickered and sputtered. An image formed,
dancing between light and blackness. Suddenly, I could make sense of what I was looking at. The five of us, Emma, Hugh, Ronnie, Kai, and me, along with Moss, stood in front of a chain-link fence, facing an open gate. The colors were faded into sepia tones. Except my red coat—it stood out like a drop of blood.

I still didn't know where we were.

Where, Cornelius? Show me your friends.

That was the wrong thing to ask for.

The image strobed out in a flash, and I was treated to a series of scenes featuring Anya, being indiscriminately cruel to the monkeys.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn't get overwhelmed.

Okay, you're safe.

Friends!

I'm going to help them. I promise. But you have to show me where.

Then it came to me.

He'd escaped.

Show me that, Cornelius. Show me how you got away.

Cornelius started at the beginning. He'd always been a clever little guy. But once he'd developed his psychic ability there was no stopping him. It didn't take long for him to foresee his escape, which showed him
how
to escape.

Thanks to this vision, he knew how to unlatch his cage door. And even knew where to hide in order to slip outside when Barry walked in. From there, it was a mad dash down dark, litter-strewn hallways.

Finally free, Cornelius had shot up the first thing he could climb.

A roller coaster.

“What did you see?” Ronnie asked.

“Too much,” I said, trying not to let the need to wrap my hands around Anya's throat distract me from the task at hand. “I have an odd question for you. Are there any abandoned amusement parks around?”

“Yeah, there's one that got destroyed in Katrina,” she said. “They used to shoot a bunch of movies there but I heard they closed it down because it was too dangerous and the filmmakers' equipment stopped working.”

“Could it be that the same thing blocking the psychic energy is interfering with electronics?” Hugh said.

“Why not? I tossed logic out the window an hour ago,” Kai muttered.

The logic didn't matter to me. “How far away is this place?”

“This time of night, twenty minutes, max,” Ronnie said.

I kept a comforting hand on Cornelius as we drove. I knew I'd have to put him in a cage when we got to where we were going and worried about his reaction.

Not wanting to upset the little guy, I decided to focus on happy thoughts and memories.

I was shown a few flashes of his favorite toys and a swing, and then I heard a woman's voice.

“Give us a kiss then, eh?”
she said.

Cornelius hopped onto the woman's shoulder and kissed her cheek.

The memory faded, and I knew that the woman, years ago, had cared for and loved Cornelius. I didn't know what had happened to her, but I felt his deep sorrow and knew he missed her very much.

Now he wanted to find his new family.

We will. We're almost there.

The amusement park was easy to find. A designated exit led us right to the entrance.

Kai pulled to a stop and turned in the seat to look at me. Before he was able to say anything, light flickered in my vision and my brain went wonky.

Cornelius went still and I knew, when the strobing effect started, he was having one of his visions.

“Grace?” My sister's voice sounded distant.

“He's showing me something,” I said.

“Like a future something?” Ronnie asked.

I raised my hand to forestall any more questions.

To forge a better connection to his mind, I closed my eyes, locked on to the monkey's thoughts, and waited for the image to form. When it did, I saw something so shocking I thought my heart might stop mid-beat.

I sucked in a gasp and opened my eyes.

“What is it?” Emma asked in a harsh whisper. “What did you see?”

“I . . . I'm not sure.”

“Did it have to do with Belinda?” Kai asked.

I glanced at him, looked away, and shook my head.

“No. It's . . . I can't explain. It's not about this.” I waved my hand in a vague reference to the current situation.

I didn't want to think about what I'd just seen so I tossed
the thought into the oubliette of my consciousness and left it there to be forgotten.

With renewed composure I said, “Kai, check under your seat for my stun gun.”

After a long, searching look he did as I asked.

“Got it.” He held up the foot-long cylinder.

“Good. Now, everyone out so I can get Cornelius settled in his cage.”

By the time I secured the monkey and joined the group, I was calm and ready.

We had to park Bluebell on the shoulder of the main road and walk past the concrete barricades blocking the entrance. The weathered chain-link security gate hung askew. The signs warning all who bothered to read them of the penalties for trespassing were faded and tagged with graffiti.

Collectively, we drew to a stop a few feet from the gate. Just like Cornelius had predicted.

The air was utterly still and the night unusually quiet. In the distance, the peaks of the roller coaster rose over the fog like skeletal humps of a prehistoric beast.

“Think they're watching?” Emma asked.

“No question,” Kai said.

“What's our move?” Hugh asked.

“We walk in like we don't give a damn?” Emma suggested.

“Ballsy,” he said, grinning at my sister. “Psych out the psychos.”

“Sounds good to me,” Ronnie said.

“Better to act like we have no clue, right?” I suggested.

“They already think we're stupid,” Ronnie said.

“For the record, they may be right,” Kai said.

“What choice do we have?” I asked. “Belinda is in there with a mad scientist who has a device that will put a hole in her head. I'm not okay with that.”

“None of us are, Grace, but we need to think this through.”
Emma gently placed a hand on my shoulder and turned me to face her. Her dark, deep-set eyes searched mine. “You okay?” she murmured.

“No, I feel like my flesh wants to crawl off my bones.”

“I feel it, too,” Ronnie said. “Maybe it's the thing that's blocking the psychic energy.”

“I can buy that,” Kai said, “but if whatever it is, is doing this”—he motioned to Ronnie's grimacing face—“from this far away, can we ask her, or Grace, to go in there?”

“I'm fine.” Ronnie and I spoke in tandem and then shared a wry look.

“Ronnie, you said film crews avoided this place because of the issue with electronics, right?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Then, how can they be watching us?”

“Good question. Maybe they can't,” she said.

“I say we go with Emma's idea. Show of force. They'll either be intimidated or think we're stupid,” Hugh said.

•••

“This place is creepy on a level that takes creepy to another dimension,” Emma said as we walked between broken-down old rides.

She was right. It was like we had stepped onto the set of a postapocalyptic horror film. The dilapidated theme park was strewn with fallen leaves and other trash. Graffiti was everywhere.

“My phone doesn't work,” I said.
Damn.
I had been about to call Logan.

“Mine either,” Hugh said.

Kai turned in a slow circle and pointed. “There.”

“Is that a cell phone tower?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Then why aren't we getting a signal?”

“My guess,” Kai said, “is that it's been modified somehow.”

“So that's what's scrambling the psychic energy and messing with our cell phones,” I said.

“My head feels like an ice pick is being shoved into my forehead,” Ronnie said.

“It must be emitting some sort of frequency or generating a specific electromagnetic field,” Kai said.

I had only a vague idea what he was talking about, but I knew whatever the tower was doing, it was good for the bad guys and not for us.

“Can we take it out?” I asked.

“We need to,” Ronnie said, “or I'm going to be useless soon.”

I looked over at her. She squinted at the tower as if it pained her to keep her eyes open. The subtle freckles I'd noticed when we met now stood out on her rapidly paling face.

“Grace?” Emma asked.

“I'm okay,” I said, which wasn't exactly true. “My head is pounding, too, but my connection to Moss is fine. Mostly.”

“Mostly?”

I shrugged off Kai's concern. “It's intermittently fuzzy, but it's okay.”

Ronnie pointed to a large building not far from the cell tower.

“There.”

I saw it, too. An almost imperceptible light traced along the bottom of a door.

“Okay,” I said. “Emma, Ronnie, and I will head inside, and you guys work on getting that thing off-line.”

Hugh pulled Emma close for a quick kiss and said something in her ear.

Kai handed the stun gun to me, cupped my chin, and angled my face up to his. “Be safe.”

“You, too.”

“Moss,” he said, looking down at my dog. “Take good care of our girl.”

Guard.

Emma, Ronnie, Moss, and I walked to the building, while Hugh and Kai went toward the tower.

The door wasn't locked. Opening it a crack, I peeked inside. Seeing the coast was clear, I nodded to Emma and Ronnie and, with my stun gun held tightly in my right hand, slipped through the door into a dark hallway. Like the rest of the grounds, the floor was littered with a layer of mostly unrecognizable debris.

We tried to walk quietly, but it was impossible. Every few feet someone would step on a brittle piece of plastic or crunch on a pile of broken glass. Even sure-footed Moss sent an aluminum can rolling loudly down the hall.

“We might as well have a second line with us,” Ronnie said in an irritated whisper.

I remembered hearing about second lines but my understanding was limited. I knew it was a type of small marching band and I was pretty sure they had something to do with funerals.

Not the most comforting parallel to draw.

“Just keep moving,” I said.

Sorry.

It's okay, big guy.

Quiet?

Yeah, that's the idea.

I thought I'd made it clear to him to be as stealthy as possible, but maybe the energy field was stronger than I'd realized.

I shifted the stun gun to my left hand and fisted my right in my dog's ruff. My fingers barely penetrated his fur but the connection was enough. The interference quieted to an annoying but ignorable thrum.

“We found Cornelius's friends. Look,” my sister whispered.

I stood on tiptoe to peer through the little square window in the metal door.

By the light of a lamp on the desk set to one side, I could
see a row of cages against the opposite wall. Three capuchin monkeys sat in separate cages. One rocked back and forth in an unceasing rhythm—neurotic behavior indicating an unhealthy mental condition. Not surprising.

I put my hand on the door but my sister stopped me from pushing it open.

“We can't,” she said. “I know you want to get them out of there. I do, too. But we have to find Belinda first.”

I didn't like it but knew she was right. Rescuing the monkeys wouldn't be easy or quiet.

Still, I hesitated. I desperately wanted to reassure them, but didn't dare try to reach out to them with my mind. Who knew how upset they might become? Plus, I didn't trust how clear the communication would be with the energy field blocking me.

I nodded to my sister and even though they couldn't hear me, I whispered to the monkeys. “I'll come back for you, I promise.”

“Come on.” Ronnie's hushed voice was strained with either pain or irritation. Probably both.

We continued down the corridor until we came to a T. Faint light was visible in both directions.

I looked down and touched Ronnie's arm. “Look.”

Hundreds of pieces of shattered glass sparkled on the concrete at our feet.

“Diamonds,” she whispered.

“Looks like you were tuning in to Hattie after all.”

Ronnie gave me a faint smile and turned to survey the hallway in both directions. “We should split up.”

“No, we shouldn't,” I told her.

“We can't change the plan now, Ronnie,” Emma said.

“Fine,” she said, relenting. “But which way do we go?”

“You tell us,” I said.

“I don't know. My head. I can hardly think.”

“This way,” Emma said. She headed right and we followed.

The glowing light was coming from an open doorway. Slowly, we peeked around the corner and saw the room was empty except for the occupant of the operating table. Belinda lay unmoving on the stainless steel slab. Her head was free of any contraptions and I didn't see any bandages or blood.

“I can see her breathing,” my sister said. “Come on.” We rushed into the room as quietly as possible. The knot between my shoulder blades relaxed a fraction when I saw Belinda was semiconscious but physically unhurt. I pulled the IV out of her arm as my sister shook her gently. I checked the bag. It was midazolam, a sedative.

“Belinda, wake up,” Emma said.

She didn't move.

“We've got to get her out of here,” I said, as if that weren't already the idea.